


Frodo's Big Adventure

by teatimelordsand221b



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Alternate Universe - Children, Kid Fic, Prequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-08
Updated: 2013-11-08
Packaged: 2017-12-31 20:06:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teatimelordsand221b/pseuds/teatimelordsand221b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Sam and Frodo are the same age (or close, like in the movies if I'm not mistaken) ~6, 7 years old?<br/>Written for an English Class assignment. </p><p>Young Frodo finds himself seeking some adventure on a late night in Hobbiton.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frodo's Big Adventure

**Author's Note:**

> Be kind, it's my first fic... ever.  
> Constructive criticism is always welcome, though I'm not sure I plan on doing any serious editing... it is just for fun, after all. (At least now that I've got my mark...!)

 

Frodo's Big Adventure

 

Frodo Baggins woke up, cozy in his bed, fresh from an exhilarating dream filled with dragons and ogres and magic. The smell of the fireplace burning in the parlour filled his lungs with warmth. See, hobbit holes are built with olfactory aesthetics in mind, to ensure that a lovely scent can be shared throughout the household, but a nasty one can be eradicated easily. Hobbits take much pride in their caring about that sort of thing; they are creatures of a simple, but comfortable lifestyle. No reasonable hobbit goes out looking for any kind of trouble.

The Bagginses, however, had a reputation for finding trouble, or being found by it... a reputation that, no matter how many years had past without incident, never seems to fade. _Adventurers_ , they were, _disturbers of the peace_ , and other hobbit families never let them forget it. Oblivious to the opinions of other hobbits, seven year old Frodo loved this reputation that he'd been born into; he loved adventure.

 

Back in his room, Frodo breathed in the firewood-air, he began to wonder why the fireplace was burning in the first place, at such a silly hour. He figured his uncle, Bilbo, must have gotten up for a cup of tea in the night, and left the fire going, as he had been doing more and more, lately. Whenever Frodo would catch him up at night, he would speak to Frodo of how he'd been dreaming of his adventures, and how that made him long for a cup of tea.

“Anyone who's gone without tea for that long would be foolish not to indulge in every possible moment. One never knows when another adventure will come calling,” Bilbo would warn, reminiscently.

Sliding quietly from beneath his heavy duvet and headed for the parlour, the young hobbit recounted the happenings of his dream. He'd been swept off on an unexpected journey with a company of strangers; together, they fought all manner of evil creatures, meeting many beautiful ones as well. He'd tricked goblins and snuck out of the capture of Mirkwood Elves, all on his journey to slay the dragon, hidden in the mountains. He had woken suddenly, just before seeing the beast. He remembered feeling the heat of a dragon's breath around the corner, as he lurked in the tunnels and passageways of the mountain lair, just before waking up in his own familiar bed. He wished desperately to return to that world of fantasy, but he no longer felt even the most distant twinge of drowsiness.

He shuffled into the parlour, expecting to see his uncle sitting quietly by the window at his desk. Strangely enough, old Bilbo was nowhere to be seen. The fire crackled steadily and a comfortable warmth radiated throughout the room. It seemed as though Bilbo had just gone to back to sleep. Frodo sat down at Bilbo's desk and stared longingly out the window, thinking of nothing but the adventure he longed to have.

Suddenly, a thought came to him. Frodo wrapped his travelling cloak around him, and with a cooking spoon as a walking stick he pattered out the front door without a sound.

 

The cool night air nipped gently at his nose as he made his way down Bagshot Row, towards the house of Samwise Gamgee, the Gaffer's son. The Gaffer and his son worked as gardeners on the Baggins Property of Bag End, where Frodo lived. Sam and Frodo would often talk and play together on hot summer afternoons, when the gardening was finished and the Gaffer had gone home. Sam was Frodo's best friend, as Frodo was Sam's.

As he neared the house with the big wooden “number three” sign, Frodo smiled. Stepping over the fence, he began to climb the mound of earth and grass that was the Gamgee residence. He walked over to the window peeking out of the ground on the east side of the home; he knew it to be Sam's bedroom window. The angle was strange, but Frodo managed to get an unsteady foothold. He knocked thrice against the window, gently. Sam did not stir. He knocked again, more forcefully this time. He saw Sam's head bolt up suddenly, before seeing Frodo's face peeking in from behind the grimy glass of the window. Frodo slid the window frame open just a sliver and pressed his mouth to the opening. He could feel the cold, damp wood against his lips as he spoke.

“I want to go on an adventure,” the young hobbit whispered excitedly.

Samwise, stared back at him in sleepy bemusement and scratched at his head which was currently topped with a pile of unruly blondish curls.

“Mister Frodo, I really don't think that wise,” he responded warily, “It's just about the witching hour, and the Gaffer's always telling me we ought to stay out of trouble 'round this time.'There's some right dark nonsense that comes out in the night,' is what he's always telling me.”

“Oh Sam, you're so fretful. Too much so, I'd say. Always running away from the fun, even from Rosie!” Frodo teased.

Sam's face had gone such a deep shade of red that it was visible even in the darkness of his room.

Sam had had a crush on Rosie Cotton as long as Frodo could remember. She was a round-faced girl with a warm smile and soft hands, who lived on South Lane. She often came by the Gaffer's place with warm biscuits; these visits were highly anticipated by Samwise, and surprisingly not because of the baked goods. He had never spoken to Rosie, but had certainly stolen a few glances while she wasn't looking.

“Oh, Mister Frodo, please don't bring Rosie into this,” Sam begged.

“Well if you're not coming, I'll just go off by myself!” Frodo announced, “I guess the night isn't somewhere for--”

Frodo was cut off as his foothold slipped and he began to tumble down the hill uncontrollably. Sam jumped up from his bed and ran from his room and out the front door as fast as his fat, short hobbit legs would carry him. He found Frodo laughing hysterically at the foot of the hill. Huffing and puffing, Sam shook his head in frustration.

“That really wasn't very funny, Mister Frodo,” he said.

“Well, maybe not to you, but it was to me!” Frodo managed between fits of laughter. Taking a look at Sam's face he understood that he wasn't amused in the slightest, but rather was genuinely concerned.

“Dear Sam, I only meant it foolishly. I'm sorry to have made you worry. Now, since you're already out, might you join me in my adventure?” Frodo smiled as he spoke, and his bright blue eyes gleamed in the night.

“I swear to rescue you from any peril that may befall you!” Frodo cried excitedly.

The corners of Sam's mouth began to twitch upwards before stretching into a big grin. He grabbed a small, fallen branch from the ground and held it as a walking stick. Nodding toward Frodo, they began on their adventure.

 

Through the streets of Hobbiton they trudged on, fearless adventurers in the night. They climbed boulder mountains and waded through fearsome puddle rivers. With the moon as their lantern and the stars as their guide, they walked tirelessly through the lands.

Suddenly, they heard a strange noise from nearby-- a creature stepped out from the shadows and into the dazzling moonlight, it's features set in sharp relief so that every bump and crease was all too clear. The hideous goblin came hobbling towards them at a speed much faster than you'd think such a creature would be capable of. The two young hobbits exchanged looks of terror before darting off in opposite directions, losing sight of each other and leaving lumpy, old Mrs. Greenhand shaking her head curiously in the dust of the road.

Having now lost his adventuring partner, Frodo continued on his way. Unphased by his new-found solitude he made his way towards the Sackville-Bagginses garden to procure some vegetables. An adventurer, after all, must keep himself well fed! Sam, on the other hand, was now more discouraged than ever.

“I'm no adventurer,” he mumbled to the mushrooms growing by his feet, “I'm nothing special, just a little hobbit I am.”

Discouraged and nervous in the quiet darkness of the night, little Samwise brushed the hair out of his big brown eyes and began to search for Frodo.

 

Meanwhile, Frodo was standing on the perimeter of the Sackville-Bagginses vegetable garden, quietly making a plan. He thought that six carrots, two heads of lettuce and an armful of potatoes would last him until the next time he'd be lucky enough to come across a vegetable garden. Bilbo had told him that when on an adventure, one can't expect all the luxuries of home to follow them out the door. Two days worth of food seemed reasonable, seeing as Frodo had never walked more than five minutes without seeing a vegetable patch, never mind two days!

Sure of what he wanted to accomplish, Frodo stepped quietly over the fence and into the field. He watched his footing carefully so as to not step on any branches or make any noise louder than his light footfall. Finally, he reached the centre of the vegetable patch where the carrots were planted. Taking a strong footing and a firm grip, he held the carrot top from the point closest to the ground and pulled as hard as he could. The carrot didn't give. Again and again he tried to uproot this carrot with no luck. Brimming with frustration, Frodo gave the carrot one final, desperate tug...

_SNAP!_

The carrot ripped out of the ground with a loud cracking noise as the roots snapped and tore. The sound was so loud that it woke the Sackville-Bagginses guard dogs! Frodo could hear them growling and barking as they ran, to investigate the noise. His heart stopped. What was he going to do now? He couldn't possibly outrun the dogs, could he? Where on earth was Sam?

Lucky for Frodo, Sam heard the dogs as well. Immediately thinking of Frodo, Sam followed the sound of the yipping and snarling of the dogs until he found himself at the edge of the Sackville-Bagginses vegetable garden. He saw through the dark of the night, silhouettes of large dogs running towards a smaller, hobbit-shaped shadow, that seemed to be jumping up and down with fright. Sam knew immediately that he had to do something.

 

“Wargs! Wargs!” Frodo cried into the night, helplessly. Still living in his adventure, he was convinced the dogs were evil orc minions. He ran around in small circles, trying to think of a way out of the situation when he heard a faint sound behind him.

“Pssst, Mister Frodo, I'm here, behind you,” Sam's whisper carried along the soft wind to Frodo, who stood a good few feet away.

Sam waved Frodo to come toward him. Once they stood side by side, Sam pulled a slab of raw meat from his cloak and threw it to the spot that Frodo had just been standing.

“They'll stop smelling for you, once they've found that thing,” he explained.

“Sam, that's brilliant!” Frodo exclaimed, as a bright pink blush came to Sam's cheeks.

“Oh no, Mister Frodo, I only just listen when Bilbo tells his silly old stories,” he said, looked embarrassedly down at his feet.

 

The sun was beginning to rise in the distant east, and Sam and Frodo were preparing to head back to their warm beds, having had quite all of the adventure that two young hobbits can handle in one short night. As they prepared to part, Sam held his hands behind his back quietly, while Frodo leaned on his walking spoon. A moment of silence passed between them when suddenly, Frodo threw himself around Samwise's chest and hugged him tightly.

“Oh, Sam, where would I have been without you tonight? Eaten by dogs, I believe!”

Sam shook his head disbelievingly.

“Oh, Mister Frodo I didn't do anything much, really,”

Frodo protested to all of Sam's humbled responses, and simply stared at him with thankful eyes.

“If ever I go on another adventure, I do hope you'll be the one to come with me,” Frodo said.

Sam smiled with weary nervousness, and responded quietly,

 

“I'll never lose you again, Mister Frodo.”

 


End file.
